


The Yellow Scarf

by ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass



Series: The Adjective Noun Series [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Azumane Asahi-centric, Birds, Emotional Growth, Explicit Language, Friendship, Light Angst, Loneliness, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 18:40:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14503113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass/pseuds/ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass
Summary: Asahi would like that. He’d like to see those brown eyes up close, to see if their color is closer to dark chocolate or caramel. He’d like to hear what his voice sounds like, if it’s as light and warm as he suspects. And he’d really like to know his name.





	The Yellow Scarf

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, listen, this is an AsaNoya story, but Noya won't really be in this fic specifically; this story is a trilogy, and he will be both the point of view character and (spoiler alert) dating Asahi in the sequel.
> 
> With that being said, if you like Asahi, cute friendships, emotional journeys, or any combination thereof, this will be a fun romp for you!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy the fic!

Asahi has always liked winter - he likes wearing cozy sweaters, drinking hot chocolate, and snow - but now he’s thinking that winter might very well be his favorite season. It was spring before, but spring never brought him face to face with arguably the most attractive man he’s ever seen.

Granted, they aren’t really face to face, they’re staring at each other from their tables across the cafe, as they’ve done every day for the past two weeks.

It’s become sort of a lunchtime ritual for Asahi to go have hot chocolate in the cute little cafe near his apartment and exchange glances with the cute little man; Asahi decided to call him Scarf Man.

Scarf Man is short and slim - Asahi might have mistaken him for a teenager if it weren’t for the sharper lines of his features - and he always seems to be wearing a fluffy, gray scarf that makes him look even smaller.

The first day they’d stared at each other, it had been an accident. Asahi had been nervous about finishing a project for work on time and was glancing around the cafe in search of something to distract him, and that’s when their eyes had met. Of course, Asahi had quickly looked down at his hands wrapped around his cup as a fresh wave of anxiety washed over him, which only worsened when he could feel someone staring at him. And then Asahi made his best decision in months. He looked up again.

The smile he saw on Scarf Man’s face was probably the warmest smile he’d ever seen in his life, which was saying something since he knew Suga, the king of warm smiles. Even so, while being on the receiving end of one of Suga’s smiles felt like a warm blanket and kind words, it couldn’t compare to the way Scarf Man’s smile made his eyes crinkle.

They fell into a rhythm after that, which was easy since they both seemed to stop in the cafe for lunch every day; Asahi arrives at the cafe, usually after Scarf Man is already sitting with, what Asahi assumes to be, coffee and, what obviously is, a muffin, then he orders his own hot chocolate, finds an empty table, and by the time he looks up Scarf Man’s already smiling at him.

They don’t just stare at each other, though. That would be weird. Sometimes they - usually Scarf Man - make faces, which subsequently make Asahi laugh. And sometimes Scarf Man tilts his head in a way that makes his hair fall over his eyes, and that makes Asahi’s heart beat just a little bit faster.

Asahi didn’t do much dating in school, but he’s pretty sure that Scarf Man and him are flirting. After all, people don’t just have daily staring contests with strangers for fun, right?

He’s thought about asking Suga for his opinion but he knows that if he tells Suga it won’t be long before Daichi knows, and he really doesn’t want Daichi to have any new material to tease him with. However, if they  _ are _ flirting then he should make some sort of move, like strike up a conversation or ask to sit at the same table.

Asahi would like that. He’d like to see those brown eyes up close, to see if their color is closer to dark chocolate or caramel. He’d like to hear what his voice sounds like, if it’s as light and warm as he suspects. And he’d really like to know his name.

Curiosity killed the cat, they say, but after days of debating whether or not he should try to actually talk to Scarf Man, Asahi decided it was a risk he wanted to take. Besides, if he was wrong then no one had to know; no one would bat an eye if he holed up in his apartment and ate nothing but ice cream for a week. He supposes that’s something of a perk to being known as glass-hearted.

The day Asahi musters up the courage to talk to Scarf Man is a Thursday, although, when he finds a seat in the cafe and glances around, he doesn’t see the familiar head of messy brown hair. What he does see is Scarf Man’s scarf, draped over the back of one of the chairs near the door.

Determined, Asahi drinks his hot chocolate and waits for Scarf Man, but after an hour and two more cups of hot chocolate, with no sign of him, Asahi can’t wait anymore; he has things to do.

Standing, he wraps his coat around himself and refuses to acknowledge the internal sigh of relief he feels at not actually having to talk to Scarf Man, or the more potent feeling of sadness that makes its home in the pit of his stomach.

He’s about to walk out of the cafe and into the chilly winter air, but he finds his eyes drawn to the scarf hanging not three feet from him.

It’s a long scarf, though a sizable amount of it is comprised of dark gray tassels that bookend the main body of diagonal yellow and gray stripes; it reminds Asahi of a thunderstorm - rain clouds and lightning bolts.

He’s not sure what comes over him when he decides to pick it up before heading out of the cafe.

* * *

 

“Why did I do that,” Asahi says, staring blankly at the yellow and gray scarf laid out across his coffee table. “Why did I bring you home?”

The scarf doesn’t respond.

Turning his head to the side, Asahi’s eyes land on one of the little, potted succulents that’s sitting on his windowsill, and he asks it, “Do you know why?”

The succulent, much like the scarf, doesn’t respond. Not that Asahi expected it to; he knows perfectly well that inanimate objects don’t talk, he just likes having something to talk at. Suga has told Asahi that he should get a cat, or a goldfish, or something, anything, but Asahi doesn’t want a cat. They’re so small, what if he accidentally hurt it? And Asahi never quite got over the death of the goldfish he had when he was eight, so that option’s right out.

Asahi is just about to ask his miniature cactus, which is sat squarely in the middle of his coffee table, what it thinks he should do when he hears someone open his door and come into his apartment, and then a familiar voice calling out, “Asahi, I hope you don’t mind me stashing Daichi’s Christmas gift here.”

In a sudden rush of panic, Asahi grabs the scarf and stuffs it behind one of his throw pillows before, in an attempt at looking casual, he quickly brings his feet up to rest on the coffee table.

“Everything alright, there, Asahi?” Suga’s tone isn’t mocking, more amused than anything, but Asahi still feels just a bit mortified.

“Peachy,” Asahi says, then, in the hope of steering the conversation away from anything that will embarrass him further, he asks, “Why do you need to hide Daichi’s gift here?”

“You know how he gets when it comes to presents; if I try to hide it in our apartment then it’ll only be a matter of days before he’s found the box and opened it,” Suga says as he sets a rather large box, wrapped in shiny red paper, on the floor by Asahi’s TV. Then he stretches and, after a disconcertingly loud pop, sighs, “He says we should get a dog, but I swear, he’s a regular bloodhound, himself.”

“So what did you get him?” Asahi isn’t exactly sure why he asked. There’s a very good chance that whatever it is, he’s better off not knowing, for the sake of his friendship with Suga and Daichi both.

Suga walks over to the couch and drops himself to sit next to Asahi, saying, “Now, why would I tell you? You’re horrible at keeping secrets.” He then reaches behind the throw pillow under him and pulls out the scarf. “Exhibit A.”

Burying his face in his hands, Asahi mutters, “I was really hoping you hadn’t noticed that.”

“I see everything, Asahi, you should know this.” A hand finds its way to rest on Asahi’s shoulder as Suga continues, “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but this isn’t your scarf, is it?”

Asahi can’t bring himself to look at Suga right now so he shakes his head and mumbles, “No.”

Suga hums then says, “I can see you’re distressed, so I’ll give you a pass on the hardcore grilling for now -” Asahi knows Suga better than to think he’s actually letting this go. “- but you have to answer one question.” There it is.

Taking a deep breath, Asahi sits up and turns to face Suga, then asks, “And what would that question be?”

“If I go into your bedroom right now will I find any naked men?”

“Oh my god! Why would you even ask that!?”

“Well, will I?” The way Suga’s grinning makes Asahi think that Suga derives just a little too much pleasure from making him feel scandalized.

Standing, Asahi takes the scarf from Suga and walks towards his bedroom so he can throw it onto his bed as he calls over his shoulder, “No, you won’t.” Then he pulls his bedroom door closed and gives Suga a pointed look as he says, “And I’ll thank you to not check for yourself.”

Lifting himself up from the sofa, Suga says, “I’m offended, Asahi, not only at your apparent lack of faith that I’ll respect your privacy, but also that you aren’t hiding an attractive stranger from me.”

“You call it lack of faith, I call it experience,” Asahi says as he makes his way towards the kitchen. “And how can you possibly be offended by that?”

Suga follows, giving an exaggerated shrug as he faux whines, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because Daichi and I have been trying to set you up with that friend of Tanaka and Kiyoko’s for over a month now, and if you’re not getting with anyone then I can’t fathom why you haven’t let us give you his number.”

Asahi needs a drink if Suga’s going to lecture him about how friends let friends set them up with blind dates, even if they’re perfectly happy being single, so he opens his fridge and pulls out the apricot juice. In doing so, he notices that his fridge isn’t as empty as it was earlier and there’s a container that wasn’t there before, so he turns around, cutting Suga off mid-lecture, and asks, “Did you bring me cookies?”

“ Éclairs, actually,” Suga says.

“Homemade?”

Suga rolls his eyes and scoffs. “That’s three times you’ve offended me now, Asahi. Of course they’re homemade. Why would I ever buy them when I have my Nana’s recipe?”

“I don’t know,” Asahi says as he pours his glass of apricot juice, then he puts it back in the fridge. He would offer Suga some, but he knows Suga wouldn’t want any; the last time he had some he’d said that apricots were a poor man's orange.

“Anyway, as I was saying, he’s a really nice guy and we all think that -” Suga cuts off when his phone dings, and when he pulls it out and unlocks it, he clears his throat and swears. “Shit, I have to go, Asahi, Daichi needs me to come home and- um....”

“Just stop. It’s sad when you try to come up with a lie on the spot,” Asahi says, smiling. “I’ll talk to you guys later.”

“Yeah, later.” Suga shoves his phone back into his pocket and starts heading for the door, calling back over his shoulder. “I hope you don’t think that I’m letting the whole scarf thing go, because I still have questions!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Asahi lightly laughs. “Goodbye, Suga.”

“Bye, Asahi!”

Asahi finishes his juice and puts the empty glass in the sink, and he almost wants to cringe at how loud the glass clinking against the ceramic bottom of his sink is in the now quiet apartment.

He’s never liked being in his apartment right after people leave, something about how quickly a room can go from pleasantly noisy with friendly conversation to stiflingly silent has always unsettled him…. Maybe he should take Suga’s advice and think about getting a pet.

But that’s a train of thought he’ll board later, right now his mind is occupied by his mostly empty fridge. He’s been due for some grocery shopping for a while now.

After grabbing his coat by the door and slipping on shoes, Asahi goes to grab his keys from the little bowl on his kitchen counter. As he picks them up, though, he finds his eyes drawn to his closed bedroom door.

He’s going to have to figure out what to do with that scarf when he gets home.

Asahi spins around and quickly heads out the door, gently pulling it shut behind him and locking it before he makes his way towards the stairs.

That seems like a problem for future Asahi.

* * *

 

It’s windy out and Asahi wishes he’d remembered to grab a scarf before he left, but he’s already halfway to his favorite convenience store so he might as well tough it out.

When he finally makes it to the store and steps inside, the relief of the space heater by the door is immediate, but also short lived. As he wanders towards the milk, eggs and other basic necessities, the chill of the fridges wraps around him and makes him shiver almost as much as the wind outside did.

He makes quick work of finding everything he needs, both aided by his familiarity with the store and driven by his desire to get home and enjoy a nice, warm meal.

Asahi walks up to the checkout and sets his little basket on the counter, noticing as he does so that the cashier is new. Asahi knows this because he’s known every person who’s worked here in the past two years, including the owner of the store, and he’s never seen this man before.

His name tag says ‘Tobio’, so when Asahi says his usual hello, he follows it with, “Your name is Tobio, right?”

Tobio nods as he takes the milk from the basket, pushes a few buttons on the cash register, and then gently lowers it into a plastic bag to soon be joined by the carton of eggs and small tub of butter. Asahi doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone look so focused when bagging groceries, and he’s not sure if he wants to risk breaking that focus, so he decides against introducing himself. Besides, if Tobio is going to stick around then he’ll learn that Asahi’s a regular soon enough.

Asahi stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks around while he waits for Tobio to finish, and he almost jumps when, out of the corner of his eye, he spots the younger brother of the store owner more or less crouching behind one of the isles, staring at Tobio.

He knows Kei, but not very well. Asahi’s understanding of him as a person, which comes from both his own, limited, observations and Akiteru’s stories, is that he’s slow to warm up to new people, and, as Akiteru put it, he doesn’t like sharing the people he cares about with others.

The memories of when Asahi first started talking with Akiteru and, the then fifteen year old, Kei used to glare at him are still quite vivid. It was only after a few months, a lot of convincing from Akiteru, and Kei seemingly becoming used to Asahi’s presence, that Asahi accepted Kei wasn’t a delinquent of some sort.

Asahi tries to suppress his urge to smile at Kei’s antics with a cough, though he’s not sure if it works or not, and turns back to face Tobio, who is almost done bagging everything.

Looking at the cash register, Asahi sees how much it all cost and starts counting change to pay, so by the time Tobio finishes then Asahi is already handing him the money and smiling as he says, “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Tobio mutters, taking the money from Asahi and pushing a few more buttons before he looks back up and says, “Have a nice day.”

“You too,” Asahi responds, picking up his bags and heading for the door.

Stepping out, Asahi had almost forgotten how cold it really was. He regrets leaving his nice, warm apartment, but at the same time he knows that it’s better to just go ahead and get things done instead of waiting until you absolutely can’t put it off anymore - better to buy sugar now so that he has it than have to rush to the store in a few days when he will inevitably want to bake cookies. He had a roommate once who lived like that, and it’s because of them that Asahi rents a one bedroom apartment now.

Asahi struggles to open the door to his building with his arms full of groceries, then struggles again with pulling his keys out of his pocket to unlock his door, and only realizes after having succeeded in both endeavors that he could have made it easy on himself by just setting one of the bags on the floor for a moment.

He puts away the cold groceries and leaves the rest sitting on the counter to be dealt with later, opting instead to make some tea, which he then proceeds to dump five spoons of sugar into.

The sun is setting, and what few rays of warm light that still drift in through the windows almost seem to cling to the curtains. Asahi lets himself sit and watch as, slowly, they relinquish their grip and fade, casting his apartment into darkness until moonlight comes streaming in to compensate for their absence.

He finishes his tea like that, watching shadows creep across his floor, and when he finally decides that he’s ready to sleep, going to the kitchen to set his cup in the sink, the sound of the glass touching the ceramic isn’t as loud as before.

Asahi walks into his bedroom, wanting nothing more than to fall into his bed and sleep, but then he sees the scarf, still where he threw it earlier, balled up by his pillow.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Asahi walks over to his bed and picks up the scarf. “I’ll deal with you tomorrow, okay?” he says as he drapes it over the back of his desk chair.

He crawls into bed, but despite his eyelids feeling heavy, he finds himself staring at the scarf until he can’t keep his eyes open any longer, and he falls asleep.

* * *

 

When Asahi opens his eyes, he immediately regrets it. Sunlight is pouring in through the window directly onto his face; it doesn’t matter if he closes his eyes again or rolls over and hides his face in his pillow, it still feels too bright. And so, with going back to sleep not being an option, Asahi kicks his sheets off and decides to have breakfast.

Normally, Asahi would make himself eggs or toast, but the bags of groceries on his counter seem to say that today is a day for a lazy meal, so he opens his fridge to see what he could easily make. His eyes land on the container of  éclairs that Suga brought over yesterday, and he figures that’s as good as anything he would have wound up making anyway. It’s probably better, actually.

It’s a cold morning, urging Asahi to curl up on his sofa, wrap himself in his big, soft throw blanket, and do nothing but eat pastries until he either runs out of them or his apartment stops feeling like an arctic wasteland.

Asahi does, in fact, run out of  éclairs before he feels even remotely ready to emerge from his warm cocoon and attempt to bear the cold again.

Eventually, the chill disappears with the morning, being chased away by the afternoon, and Asahi finds himself even less inclined to do anything. He’s glad he finished all of his work for the week in advance, because now he gets to enjoy a nice long weekend.

It would be nicer, though, if Asahi were the type to enjoy sitting around doing nothing. But he’s not, so as he lays on his couch, his fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the lid of the now empty  éclair container, he thinks of things to do with his free time.

The scarf hanging off his desk chair crosses Asahi’s mind.

He decides to go for a walk.

It’s surprisingly warm when Asahi steps out, so much so that he might have forgotten it was December if it weren’t for all of the Christmas decorations.

There are so many that they start blurring together, and as Asahi walks he stops being able to distinguish one paper snowman from another. That is, until he passes a little shop with probably the most horrifying representation of Santa Claus that Asahi has ever seen in his life hanging in the window, right next to where the glass has ‘Boko Candles’ written on it in swirly red and gold font.

Despite the decorations, Asahi finds himself intrigued, so he opens the door and walks in.

The inside of the store is warm, both literally and figuratively; the walls are a rich red and lined with dark, stained wooden shelves, every single one of which is absolutely cluttered with various materials.

“Hello, and welcome to Boko Candles!” A loud and cheery voice says, then suddenly a man around Asahi’s height with pure white hair and a great, big smile is standing in front of him. “I don’t recognize you, is this your first time visiting the ol’ shop?”

Asahi doesn’t have time to answer before another voice calls out from the back of the store, “How could this  _ not _ be his first time if you don’t recognize him? You make it your mission to know every face that comes through that door!”

“Shush, Kuroo, I’m making small talk!” The white haired man shouts back before turning to face Asahi again and says, “Sorry about that. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for? We’ve got candles, candle making supplies, candle holders, candle decorating supplies - anything you can think of that’s to do with candles, basically.”

“I’m just looking,” Asahi says. “I don’t really know much about candles, or candle making.”

“Oh! Well, if you have any questions, I’d be happy to answer them!” The white haired man’s smile grows again before he holds out his hand and adds, “The name’s Bokuto. I own this place with Kuroo, back there.”

Asahi finds himself returning Bokuto’s smile as he shakes his hand and asks, “Is it difficult to make candles?” He’s been wanting a new hobby since he quit his pottery class; a person can only make so many crummy mugs before they have to walk away. Why not candles?

“It’s not hard at all!” Bokuto exclaims. “It’s just melting wax and pouring it into cute, little jars to cool.”

“Really?” That does sound easy. Easier than making mugs, anyway.

“Yeah! If you’re interested, you should come by next Tuesday. We have a class where we teach how to make candles, as well as lots of little things you can do to customize them.”

“That sounds nice, I think I will.”

That was all it took for Bokuto to link his arm with Asahi’s and walk him through the store, showing him all of the different containers they have, which is a lot, and telling him what each thing they sell is used for. So it isn’t long before Asahi is standing at the register with a slew of candle making supplies.

“I hope Bo wasn’t too much for you,” the man at the register says as he starts pulling things out and pressing buttons on the cash register. “I’m Kuroo, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Asahi. And no, he wasn’t too much, he was very -” Asahi pauses. “- informative.”

Kuroo laughs. “That’s definitely one way to put it.” He stops suddenly and squints at everything laid out on the counter, then starts setting things to the side, saying, “You don’t need these.”

“What?”

“These stick things that say you’re supposed to use them to hold up the wicks while the candles cool? Yeah, you can just use spoons or something, as long as it’s sturdy and lays flat across the top.” Kuroo looks up then and says, “Sorry, Bo gets really excited whenever someone new comes in and he always tries to sell them more than they really need.”

“But Kuroo,” Bokuto says, appearing at his side, “the shopping is the most fun part of candle making!” Bokuto pauses for a moment before adding, “Apart from actually making the candles, of course. And giving them to people.”

Kuroo pats Bokuto’s shoulder as he says, “I know, buddy.” As he does this, Asahi notices the mess of bracelets that cover, what must be at least, a third of his forearm. All of them are comprised of big, black beads and smaller, colored ones that vary from bracelet to bracelet, making his arm look like some sort of bizarre rainbow.

When Asahi recovers from the shock of just how many bracelets Kuroo’s wearing, he realizes that Bokuto is talking.

“This is my favorite time of year, you know, because you get to give people candles for Christmas. But I also really like March because I know a lot of people born in March, so I get to give all of them candles for their birthdays, and they always love them.” Bokuto suddenly turns to Asahi and asks, “Have you ever met someone who didn’t like candles?”

Caught off guard, Asahi rushes slightly to say, “No. No, I haven’t.”

“Exactly!” Bokuto cries, slamming his hand down on the counter and turning to Kuroo again. “Everyone likes candles! See, Kuroo?”

“I wasn’t disagreeing with you, Bo,” Kuroo laughs lightly as he finishes putting Asahi’s new purchases into a bag. Then he looks up and gestures to a tray on the counter as he says, “Now, before I finalize all this, can I interest you in a bracelet?”

Asahi looks at the tray and is amazed to see several dozen bracelets, just like the ones on Kuroo’s arm.

“They look good on everyone,” Kuroo insists. “Friends, family, pets - hell, even if jewelry isn’t your thing, you can still use them. You could string a bunch together to hang on your Christmas tree, or something.”

The look on Kuroo’s face tells Asahi that he genuinely believes what he’s saying. Asahi isn’t sure if he pities him for thinking that something so horrendous actually looks good, or admires him for being so passionate about something as odd as bracelets. Regardless, he buys three. Only because Kuroo sounds so excited as he tells Asahi what a deal it is - “They’re a dollar each, but if you buy three then it’s only a buck fifty! That’s fifty cents a bracelet!” - Asahi just can’t say no.

Asahi leaves Boko Candles that day with several little, glass candle holders, a bag of wax, a bottle of lilac and lavender scent each, and three absolutely horrid bracelets.

As he walks out of the door, he hears Bokuto say, “He’s gonna be a regular, I can tell.”

* * *

 

It’s a Thursday when Asahi is sitting on the floor of Yui’s apartment, looking back and forth between all of the little bits and pieces he’s poured out of the IKEA box and the instructions. He doesn’t remember building a table being this difficult, but then again, he hasn’t had to build furniture in years.

Yui is sitting on her couch, one of the only pieces of completed furniture in the apartment, and is watching over Asahi’s shoulder as he struggles and she pets her cat while sipping at a glass of wine. It’s a position that she hasn’t been too keen on moving from since she first settled into it around an hour ago.

“Remind me why you aren’t helping again?” Asahi asks as he tries fitting two pieces together.

“I have a cat,” Yui says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m down for the count until Peet decides to move.” Then she hums and adds, “I doubt that’ll be any time soon, though. He likes my lap a lot.”

Giving up on fitting the two pieces, Asahi sighs, “I could say the same about this table of yours.”

“That it likes my lap?”

Asahi laughs, then says, “No, that it’s not going to happen any time soon.”

“Oh, that’s quitter talk, Asahi,” Yui chides. “And besides, it has to get done today, we already ate half of the ‘We Built a Table’ pizza. What would people think of us if they found out that we ate our reward pizza before we earned it?”

“I think the more important question is, what would people think if they found out that you like anchovies on your pizza,” Asahi says, and then he laughs again when Yui lightly shoves at his shoulder with her foot.

Yui huffs, “Quiet, you. I won’t tolerate insubordination.”

“Insubordination?” Asahi asks, turning to face her. “Since when do I work for you?”

“Since you ate my pizza, that’s when!”

Peet seems to dislike how loud the room has become and gets up from Yui’s lap before prancing away and into the bedroom.

After watching Peet’s tail disappear beyond the door frame, Asahi looks up at Yui and smiles as he says, “Looks like you’re free to help now.”

Yui groans and Asahi laughs as he half-heartedly tugs at her hand in a mock attempt to pull her down onto the floor with him, and soon enough they’re both laughing as they discard the instructions in favor of trying to brute force the table together, a plan which neither of them really expect to work, but they commit to all the same.

They do manage to build Yui’s coffee table, eventually, but not before they finish off the second half of the pizza.

* * *

 

Asahi’s Sunday is quiet, with no plans or obligations, except for the scarf that’s, once again, laying across his coffee table.

He knows he’s been avoiding it. He knows, but he’d rather do his work than have to sit down and deal with it. Besides, this system of moving it around his apartment and then ignoring it has been working for him ever since he brought it home, and he doesn’t see the sense in breaking that streak now…. Okay, he does, but he still doesn’t want to.

The bag of candle wax and glass jars that he bought from Boko Candles is sitting on the counter in his kitchen, practically urging Asahi to forget the scarf for just a little bit longer. How could he possibly resist?

Bokuto had been kind enough to write some basic instructions and tips for Asahi, so he pulls the little, crumpled piece of paper out of the bag and reads it over; Bokuto may have been oversimplifying it when he said “It’s just melting wax and pouring it into cute, little jars to cool.”

Asahi spends almost an hour preparing, laying paper on his counter in case he spills anything, setting the wicks in the jars, and cutting the chunk of wax he bought into smaller pieces. Then he spends another twenty minutes waiting for water to boil after he sets up, what Bokuto’s instructions called, a double boiler.

Once he actually gets to the wax melting part, though, it’s more fun than Asahi had expected. He actually finds watching the wax melt and become transparent sort of mesmerizing, and adding the scent with the little dropper makes him feel like he used to when he was a kid and he would pretend to be a scientist.

As he pours the wax into the jars, Asahi finds himself slightly regretting his choice to not buy any coloring, he thinks it would have been really fun to play around with, but there’s no point in beating himself up over the decision. Besides, he can always go back to Boko Candles and get some.

Now all Asahi has to do is wait twenty-four hours for the candles to cool. That’s what Bokuto wrote, at least, and Asahi trusts that Bokuto knew what he was talking about.

He stares at them for the better part of a half hour before he can’t anymore; watching candles cool is equivocal to watching paint dry, Asahi thinks.

Asahi decides to see if there’s any good shows on to pass the time and makes his way to his sofa, his mind having completely forgotten about the scarf until his eyes land on it as he reaches for the TV remote.

The candles certainly were a good distraction. While they lasted, anyway.

Leaning back, Asahi crosses his arms over his chest and squints at the scarf. He still really doesn’t want to acknowledge it, but he supposes that he’s put it off long enough. It has been over a week since he brought it home.

Suddenly, a thought hits Asahi; what if Scarf Man’s been back to the cafe, has tried to find his scarf but couldn’t because Asahi took it? Asahi would say that it was improbable, that he would have seen Scarf Man, but he’s been busy with work and hasn’t been to the cafe much in the past week.

The idea that Asahi has become a thief makes something in him twinge in discomfort, a feeling which is only aggravated by the fact that he still isn’t exactly sure why he took the damned scarf in the first place.

He considers burying the scarf in his closet to never be seen again, it might solve his embarrassment problem, but he would feel horrible if the scarf had sentimental value and he just hid it.

In thinking over his options, Asahi concludes that he has two; he could hide the scarf and forget it ever existed, or leave it at the cafe again and hope that Scarf Man will find it. He’s not fond of either, if he’s honest with himself.

On the one hand, he doesn’t want to keep something that isn’t his, especially if it’s important to someone else, so stuffing it in his closet is out of the question, but he also can’t just get rid of it. He can’t leave it at the cafe either, though, what if someone else took it? No, he has to see this through.

It’s with the realization that he has to see the scarf returned to its rightful owner that Asahi comes to the conclusion that he really only has one choice. He has to keep the scarf with him and hope to cross paths with Scarf Man again so he can return it.

Asahi dreads having to keep the scarf, even if it’s only for a while, but it’s his best option, so he resolves to bury it in the bottom of one of his bags and carry it around with him.

And hey, if Scarf Man is willing to not question why Asahi has his scarf, returning it could be a good ice breaker.

* * *

 

“Which do you like better, Asahi?” Kiyoko asks, holding up two ornate plates, one painted with pale, pink roses and the other with bright yellow daffodils.

Asahi’s not exactly sure how he wound up commiting a significant part of his Friday to helping Tanaka and Kiyoko unpack. He didn’t mean to stay, really, he just wanted to come over and see the new apartment, give them some of the candles he’s made as a housewarming gift. Things don’t always go to plan, however, and he’s been sitting on their couch for an hour now, acting as an impartial judge for them to show various objects to, that range anywhere from throw pillows to can openers.

After staring at them really,  _ really _ hard, Asahi tilts his head and says, “The roses?”

“You don’t sound sure,” Kiyoko says.

“It’s a tough decision, they’re both pretty. The roses are a nice color, but I like the style of the daffodils a lot.”

Tanaka comes striding into the room with another box from the kitchen, and as he sets it on the floor he says, “See, Kiyoko, Asahi is a man of good taste. He likes my Gram’s china.” Then he turns to Asahi and continues, “She doesn’t like the daffodils.”

“It’s not that I don’t like them,” Kiyoko insists, “it’s just that these are supposed to be nice plates, for holidays, and at least half of the set is chipped, Ryu.”

Tanaka shrugs. “My Gram wouldn’t have kept them if they weren’t durable.”

“Half the set is chipped?” Asahi asks, and when Kiyoko nods at him, he says, “I like the roses better.”

“Thank you, Asahi,” Kiyoko sighs as she sets the plates back into the boxes she’d pulled them from and then picks up the one with the rose set in it and starts walking towards the kitchen, calling back over her shoulder, “We can send the daffodils to Saeko, I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to give them a home in her cabinet.”

“Oh, she’ll be happy, all right,” Tanaka says before throwing himself onto the couch next to Asahi and groaning as he stretches his arms. “Did you know I had to fight her for those plates when Gram moved in with our parents?”

Asahi would laugh if he didn’t one hundred percent believe Tanaka, which he does, so instead he just asks, “Really?”

“Yeah, it was four years ago, I’d just graduated college and was moving into my first apartment.” Tanaka smiles as he talks, and Asahi can’t help smiling too as he continues, “I didn’t have any of the things you need as an adult, so my roommate and I survived college by either borrowing from the guys across the hall from us or making whatever we had in the dorm work, but I have great memories of going to my Gram’s old house when me and Saeko were kids, and she’d pull out those plates for us.”

“It sounds like they really mean a lot to you,” Asahi says.

“Of course! I mean, I used to play tea party with those plates, man,” Tanaka laughs. Then he sighs and says, “But I do see where Kiyoko is coming from. I’m just sentimental, you know?”

Asahi thinks about the cardboard box he has in his own closet that’s full of old toys and things from when he was a kid that he never quite had the heart to get rid of, and then he puts a hand on Tanaka’s shoulder and says, “Yeah, I know.”

Kiyoko walks back into the room carrying an absurd amount of spatulas - Asahi counts at least eight - and she simply stares at Tanaka with a bewildered expression for a moment before asking, “Why do you have twelve spatulas, Ryu?”

“They kept getting lost,” is Tanaka’s immediate answer.

“But there are twelve.”

“Yeah, well, I found them when I was moving furniture to pack.”

“Where did you find them?” Kiyoko asks, and if Asahi didn’t know better he’d think she sounded hesitant. Then again, it would be perfectly reasonable for Kiyoko to be concerned about where Tanaka found the spatulas; Tanaka is far from the cleanest person in their friend group.

And sure enough, Tanaka replies, “Under the couch.”

Kiyoko blinks before turning and walking straight towards the kitchen, saying, “These are going in the trash.”

Tanaka leaps up from the couch then and follows, calling after her, “But, Kiyoko, one of them is shaped like a duck!”

Asahi can’t help snickering at his friends, at how they’re always so funny and sweet with each other, but he loses his composure completely when he hears Kiyoko from the kitchen exasperatedly say, “It’s broken!” And Asahi bursts out laughing.

* * *

 

Little flecks of white make their home on top of Asahi’s head and shoulders when he steps out of his apartment building, and the smooth layer of snow that covers the doorstep gives way under his feet, reminding Asahi of crawling into a bed with fresh sheets, how the clean fabric wrinkles. The sound is even similar, he thinks.

He walks quickly down the street, as even being out for only a minute has turned his nose pink. Normally he would love to take his time and enjoy the crisp air and falling flakes, but with Christmas only two days away, and everyone coming over to his apartment to celebrate, he can’t afford to catch a cold.

Thankfully, his destination isn’t far, and he only walks for another few minutes before he crosses the threshold of the convenience store, the warmth of the space heater washing over him and making him sigh in relief.

“Hey, Asahi,” Kei calls from his position of leaning on the checkout counter, his back facing the cashier as he flips through one of the impulse-buy magazines.

“Hello, Kei,” Asahi says, then he glances at the cashier and greets, “Hello, Tobio.”

Tobio nods at Asahi. It’s been about two weeks since Asahi and Tobio first met, and Asahi has managed to become friendly with him. Sure, they don’t really make small talk when Tobio’s checking him out, but Asahi gets the sense that it isn’t so much because Tobio doesn’t like him and more so that he simply isn’t one to talk much.

Asahi grabs one of the handheld baskets by the door and starts wandering through the aisles, grabbing something off a shelf every now and then. He isn’t in any particular hurry today, and he’d like to properly warm up a bit before venturing out into the snow again.

He really doesn’t need much, he already went to the grocery store and bought the big things, so his basket winds up being filled mostly with snacks.

It’s as Asahi tries to decide between barbecue and normal flavored chips that he hears Kei start talking to Tobio. Actually, talking isn’t quite the right word, it sounds like he’s trying to whisper, but with the only other noise in the store being the steady drone of the fridges and hum of the space heater, whispering seems much louder. And for that matter, the fact that Asahi thinks Kei is trying to whisper to Tobio makes him feel uncomfortable, like he shouldn’t be here so that they can talk.

Asahi has always found discomfort to be a great motivational tool for him, so he quickly makes up his mind and sets the bag of normal flavor chips in his basket before walking out of the aisle.

As Asahi rounds the corner of the shelves, however, he can see Kei leaning over the checkout counter towards Tobio slightly, and he can’t help feeling even more like he’s witnessing things he shouldn’t be.

To spare both himself and Kei, Asahi takes a few steps back into the aisle and loudly clears his throat before stepping forward again and saying, “Man, talk about snow, am I right?”

Kei seems to jump slightly before picking up his magazine again and acting as if nothing was happening, and Asahi is perfectly happy to let him. Tobio, on the other hand, simply looks up at Asahi and says, “Yes, it’s snowing a lot.”

No one says anything else as Tobio rings Asahi up, and only once he’s halfway out the door, Asahi turns back and says, “Merry Christmas, you two.” As the door closes behind him, he hears Kei reply, “You too, Asahi,” and Tobio say, “Merry Christmas.”

The snowflakes are bigger than before now, and coming down faster, too. It makes Asahi want to go sledding.

Asahi slips into daydreams about snow cones and snowmen, only to be pulled from them when a particularly violent gust of wind decides that his nose isn’t cold enough and whistles past his ears.

As he pulls his scarf up higher on his face, Asahi spots a short mess of brown hair across the street, and his grip tightens on the strap of his bag, his heart leaping into his throat as he thinks that maybe it’s him.

It plummets into the pit of his stomach, though, when the figure turns around and he can see that it isn’t Scarf Man; their eyes aren’t bright enough, their smile not wide enough.

For the rest of Asahi’s journey home, the scarf in his bag seems to weigh one hundred pounds.

* * *

 

It’s a Thursday when Asahi oversleeps, waking up three hours after his alarm would have been yelling at him to get up so he would have ample time to make Christmas dinner for everyone. Now he only has eight hours to prepare instead of eleven, and that makes Asahi very, very stressed.

If he wants to make a nice dinner then he has to get started  _ now _ . He needs to have time in case anything goes wrong. Not that anything is really likely to go wrong, Asahi isn’t a bad cook or anything, but he needs to be able to duck out in case he somehow forgot to buy something he needed when he went to the store on Monday, or the convenience store on Tuesday, or the store yesterday.

And so Asahi throws his comforter on the floor, and almost himself with it, in his haste to get out of bed. The floor is like ice under Asahi’s feet, though he’s feeling a bit too frantic to really notice or care. The cold does hit Asahi, however, when he opens his refrigerator door to start pulling out ingredients. More specifically, when he almost drops an entire carton of eggs on the floor.

Asahi’s had plenty of bad days in his life, and despite what Daichi says, he’s learned to handle them much better than he used to back in middle school and high school. But even so, his bad days are usually normal days, where nothing special is happening, which is the exact opposite of today, so he’s not handling the rough start as well as he’d like to.

It’s a half hour after the almost-incident that Asahi hears his door open and looks up from his seat on the floor to see Suga standing in his doorway.

“I was expecting you to be a mess, Asahi, but I thought we’d moved past sitting on the floor.”

Asahi sticks out his tongue at Suga, because he’s not in the mood to be teased, and says, “Don’t talk down to me, I’m not a little kid. Besides, you have no room to judge me, you frequently sit in weirder places than on the floor.”

Suga closes the door behind himself before stepping into the kitchen as he says, “Okay, firstly, I don’t think you’re a child, Asahi, I just think you’re acting like one right now.” Before Asahi can argue, Suga places a hand on his head and ruffles his hair as he adds, “Don’t worry, I think it’s cute when you’re grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy,” Asahi says, swatting Suga’s hand away and standing up.

“Right, of course,” Suga agrees wholy unconvincingly, then continues, “You’re as happy as can be, Asahi, and since you’re so happy, how about you just happily go take a happy shower while I start preparing for dinner.”

Asahi frowns at Suga, then says, “Fine,” and crouches down to pick up his carton of eggs off the floor and set them on the counter before he points a finger at Suga and adds, “But not because you told me to.” He then turns and walks towards the bathroom, hearing Suga laugh behind him.

Morning is almost completely gone by the time Asahi finishes his shower, and so is his grumpy mood, which he is now willing to admit that he did, in fact, have. It’s amazing what a nice, long shower can do for you.

There’s no rush for Asahi to come out and help Suga cook - Suga probably even wants Asahi to take as much time as possible in coming back to the kitchen; Suga isn’t very keen on sharing a workspace when he doesn’t strictly have to. And so Asahi doesn’t rush, instead he takes his time brushing his teeth, washing his face, and he even spends a few extra minutes doing some deep breathing to rid himself of whatever traces of anxiety remain.

His hair is almost dry by the time Asahi wraps a towel around his waist and walks back out into his apartments living space.

Asahi only makes it two steps out of the bathroom before someone whistles and says, “Bravo, Asahi!” Looking towards the kitchen, Asahi sees Yui standing by his refrigerator, giving him one of her signature grins and a thumbs up.

If she were anyone else, Asahi would be embarrassed, but he’s known Yui since they were five, maybe younger, and when you’ve known someone for so long, there isn’t much of a place for embarrassment in the relationship.

“Come to kick me out of my own kitchen as well?” Asahi asks, half joking, half serious.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Yui says, ducking her head into the fridge for a moment before pulling out the small turkey that Asahi bought on one of his recent grocery shopping endeavors. “Just lending a helpful hand, that’s all.”

Asahi glances at Suga, who is sitting on the counter with an entire, open bag of chocolate chips, quietly looking at his phone as he slowly but steadily eats his way through the little confectionery delights, and asks, “Isn’t that what he’s here for?”

Suga clears his throat, quite deliberately louder than necessary, and says, “I came for moral support. You know I’m not much of a hand when it comes to cooking.”

“Yeah, you’re more like two left feet,” Yui teases.

“I’m a baker, not a cook, they are different skill sets!” Suga defends, as if he and Yui have had this exact conversation before, and knowing the two of them, Asahi thinks they might very well have.

“That’s nice, Koushi,” Yui says in a disinterested tone, “now how about you get your feet off the counter so I can actually get some things done. And Asahi, go get dressed already so you can come help me with this.”

Asahi laughs at the faux offended expression on Suga’s face. He’s always enjoyed it when Yui teases Suga - a taste of his own medicine, as it were. Still laughing, Asahi heads for his bedroom, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

When Asahi steps out of his bedroom three minutes later, Suga has moved from the kitchen counter to the sofa, and the bag of chocolate chips has moved with him.

Yui remains in the kitchen, staring down at the cookbook she’s laid out next to the sink.

“What needs to be done?” Asahi asks, walking to stand next to Yui.

“Well, you could start peeling the potatoes, that would be very helpful,” Yui says.

Asahi smiles. “Will do.”

The afternoon passes quietly, for the most part. Asahi and Yui manage to get quite a bit done before Suga starts watching a soap opera that Yui likes and she insists that dinner can wait until she finds out what happens between Daniella and Rick, which is apparently a lot, as watching the episode takes an hour out of their cooking time. Asahi can’t really be upset, though, because as much as he tried to ignore the poorly written mess, he ultimately couldn’t deny his curiosity as to whether or not it was Seraphina’s baby.

Tanaka and Kiyoko arrive as Asahi is sliding the turkey into the oven, Daichi when Yui’s just finishing the cranberry sauce, and so when dinner is ready just after six, they each grab one of Asahi’s fancy dinner plates and gather around the coffee table, with Tanaka, Kiyoko, and Asahi sitting on the couch, Suga and Daichi both somehow squeezing into Asahi’s big, comfy armchair, and Yui sitting on the floor.

The little potted cactus in the middle of the table is lost among the crowd of glasses and messy, baby blue plates printed with birds and leaves.

They sit and talk for hours, until the sun’s completely gone down, they’ve eaten well over half of the food, and Daichi’s shed more than one tear while reminiscing about the past, which is something that Asahi wholeheartedly plans to hold over Daichi until the day he dies.

Things start quieting down around nine - at least, until Tanaka suddenly sits up from his reclined position in Kiyoko’s lap to say, “I can’t wait anymore, are we doing presents or what?”

“Oh yeah!” Yui shouts. “I completely forgot about presents!”

Kiyoko laughs. “I’m surprised you forgot, Yui, you love getting gifts.”

“You practically live for Christmas,” Suga says as he snuggles into Daichi more than Asahi thinks should be physically possible.

Yui leaps up from her place on the rug, saying, “What can I say, it’s the best holiday. You get stuff, and you get to give your friends stuff. Speaking of which….” She trails off and walks to the coat rack by the door, where multiple large boxes are sitting on the floor, and she starts pulling bags out of one.

Tanaka is up in an instant, rushing over to the boxes and pulling a mixture of bags and little boxes out of a different one.

Daichi manages to free himself from Suga’s clutches and starts bringing over their gifts as well.

Soon enough, red and green wrapping paper fences them all into the small space around Asahi’s coffee table, as everyone covers the floor with their gifts for each other, and they all ignore the mess of dishes that need to be cleaned in favor of seeing who can throw tissue paper the farthest in their mad dashes to unwrap their presents.

There’s a loud gasp, signaling that Tanaka has officially won the title of fastest gift opener, and an exclamation of, “Babe, how did you know?!”

Glancing over from his new spot on the floor next to Yui, Asahi sees Tanaka holding up a bright denim jacket, complete with fashionable tears and stitched on, colorful patches.

Kiyoko smiles, pausing in unwrapping her own gift to turn towards Tanaka as she says, “You’ve been talking about how much you want a denim jacket since spring, Ryuu, it wasn’t exactly a secret.”

Suddenly there’s another shout, and Asahi whips his head around to see Suga clutching a pair of lavender mittens to his chest as he beams down at Daichi from his place, surprisingly, perched on the edge of the armchair. Asahi supposes that presents are a valid reason for Suga to grant Daichi personal space.

Daichi rubs the back of his neck, like he always does when he’s embarrassed, and says, “I take it you like them?”

“Like them?” Suga scoffs, shoving the mittens onto his hands. “I fucking love them. But wait, we were on a date when we saw these, how long have you been hiding them from me?”

“Pretty much since then. I went and picked them up on my way home from work the next day. And you know, it’s a good thing you didn’t just buy them for yourself, I was honestly at a loss for what to get you.”

“Well, I already have mittens, it would have been irresponsible for me to buy them just because they’re infinitely prettier than my other, perfectly functional pair.” Then Suga leans down and kisses Daichi’s cheek, adding, “Thank you for spoiling me.”

Daichi gently pulls Suga in again, saying, “You’re most welcome; I like spoiling you.”

“Gross, get a room!” Tanaka jeers, throwing the remains of his gifts wrappings at them.

Asahi smiles at the madness, especially when Suga starts returning fire and Kiyoko gets involved, though his attention is once again redirected when Yui bumps into his side, and, looking at her, he sees the little bag with his name messily scribbled on the Santa Claus sticker that’s resting in her hand.

Asahi takes the bag and immediately pulls out the tissue paper that’s sticking up, which reveals to him four sets of hair clips, two of which are tacky beyond all reason and absolutely coated in glitter - one being a set of smiling strawberries, and the other a variety of clouds and rainbows.

“Do you like them?” Yui asks, and Asahi can hear the smile in her voice as he slowly examines the strip of farm animal themed ones.

Pulling out the fourth set, which has a different kind of bird on each clip, Asahi has to resist the urge to laugh, smiling instead and saying, “Yeah, I like them. Thanks, Yui.”

Yui bumps Asahi with her shoulder again, though this time she doesn’t pull away, instead wrapping one of her arms around him and squeezing as hard as she can - which is actually pretty hard - as she says, “No problem.”

The next couple of hours are spent shuffling around the remnants of dinner and the ever growing, additionional mess of unwrapping to hug each other, with the occasional shout of caution or concern when someone almost trips over a discarded box.

Kiyoko became effusive after unboxing the electric kettle Yui got for her and Tanaka, and Asahi was genuinely worried for his furnitures’ safety when Tanaka opened the set of mythical creature themed kitchenware, complete with a Loch Ness Monster ladle, that Daichi and Suga thought they needed, for some reason.

Yui must have cooed over her new cat shaped alarm clock, courtesy of Daichi and Suga, for upwards of ten minutes.

When everyone opened Asahi’s gifts, that was definitely a moment that Asahi will remember for years to come. It was so exciting to watch everyone unwrap the candles he’d made, to see if they liked them - which, thankfully, they all did.

Asahi could now say that he understood what Bokuto was talking about when he said he loved giving people candles, it really was something special.

The highlight of the evening, however, was Suga’s present to Daichi.

The large, red box in the corner of his living room has been there for almost a month, and Asahi had quite forgotten about it, but now Suga’s sliding it across the floor and over to Daichi with a childishly giddy smile plastered on his face.

Everyone watches Daichi as he starts to tear at the wrapping paper, curious as to what’s in the box, because Suga doesn’t usually get this excited, he’s usually much more composed as a person - he’s a sarcastic and nosy person, but he’s a calm, sarcastic, nosy person.

The paper lays shredded on the floor, the top of the box discarded among the debris, and Daichi’s eyes stare into the box.

“We’ve been talking about starting a family,” Suga says, leaning into Daichi again.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Yui yells just as Tanaka springs to his feet, meanwhile Kiyoko and Asahi stare wide eyed.

Tanaka attempts to navigate the mess that Asahi’s floor has become, shouting, “Twenty bucks says it’s a car seat!”

Daichi laughs as he reaches into the box, saying, “You might want to take that back, Tanaka, you’ve never been lucky when it comes to bets.” And then he pulls out a little, pink, polka dotted collar.

“That seems inappropriate for a group get together,” Yui says.

Suga sticks out his tongue at Yui before turning to Daichi again and saying, “You know how I said we shouldn’t get a dog because we’re both so busy with work?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I talked with my boss about moving some hours around, maybe doing work from home a little, and she finalized my new schedule last month. It’ll take effect in January.” Suga waits a moment before he practically throws his arms around Daichi’s neck and cries, “Let’s get a dog, Daichi!”

There are cheers from around the room, though it isn’t much later that they’re replaced with yawns and mutterings of busy tomorrows.

Tanaka is clinging to Kiyoko when they leave for the night, limply waving his hand in farewell and attempting to rest his head on her shoulder as they walk out the door.

Suga and Daichi help pick up the shreds of wrapping paper on the floor and put all the stray boxes into a pile before they leave with drowsy smiles and quiet goodbyes, which Asahi is grateful for, since it’s nearing midnight and he’s never been much of a night owl, not even in his teenage years, so he’s glad to have his cleanup time cut down.

Yui stays the longest, helping Asahi clear the coffee table of dishes, put away the extra food, and clean the kitchen. She’s always been great like that, always been someone that Asahi can rely on, ever since they were kids.

Drying her hands, Yui looks at the clock and says, “Look at that, all done and it’s not even that late yet.”

“I think we define late differently. It was late for me a couple of hours ago,” Asahi sighs, which is quickly followed by a yawn.

Yui hums amusedly. “Yeah, I guess we must.” Then there’s a moment of silence before Yui speaks again, saying, “Can I ask you something, Asahi?”

“Sure, what’s up?” Asahi says as he finishes putting away the dry dishes.

“Are you gonna be okay when I head home?”

Asahi turns towards Yui, who is already staring at him, looking somewhere between serious and worried, and while Asahi would like to say he doesn’t know why, he knows that he’d be lying if he said her concern was unfounded.

“I know how you get after we all hang out here, and normally I’d trust you to look after yourself, but it’s Christmas, and, I don’t know, I just-” Yui stops rambling almost as quickly as she started, and then she takes a deep breath before continuing, “I don’t want you to be sad when it’s the holidays.”

Silence settles over them again as Asahi tries to think of what he can say to comfort Yui, since, yes, he probably will be a little lonely when she leaves, and he doesn’t want to lie to her - it wouldn’t work if he tried, anyway, she’s practically always been able to tell when something was off with him.

Eventually, he breathes out a short laugh and says, “I’ll be more than okay when I climb into bed.”

Yui doesn’t seem satisfied by this response. She hums thoughtfully as she hangs the dish towel she used to dry her hands on the oven handle and tries to sound casual instead of like a worried mother as she suggests, “I could stay over.”

“And I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Asahi says, then he smiles and adds, “You’ve got a cat waiting for you.”

More silence, though this time Yui is staring at Asahi with one of her hands placed firmly on her hip as she waits for him to either change his mind or burst into tears like when they were five.

“That I do,” She finally says, slowly. “Peet doesn’t like it when I’m gone overnight.”

“And he’s a biter.”

That gets a laugh out of Yui, and she seems to relax a bit as she smiles and says, “You have a point there, Asahi.”

Asahi is glad that Yui drops the subject after that, switching the focus of their conversation to the earlier events of the evening, namely the look on Suga’s face when he and Daichi unwrapped Tanaka and Kiyoko’s gift to find several cute pet accessories, because somehow Kiyoko knew Suga was going to surprise Daichi with a dog when she really shouldn’t have because Suga told no one, a fact which he vehemently informed them all of at least six times.

They finish cleaning up on a high note, slightly out of breath from laughing and with smiles on their faces. It makes their hug before Yui leaves just a little less bittersweet.

Asahi is alone in his apartment at a quarter till one, and it’s as clean as it was at the start of the day. The only thing to assure Asahi that they all did, in fact, spend Christmas in his apartment together is the small pile of presents on his coffee table.

He turns off the lights in his kitchen and the overhead light in his living room, throwing the apartment into almost complete darkness, before he makes his way to the lamp that stands in the corner of the room to turn it off, as well.

As he walks past his coffee table to get to the table lamp that’s sitting next to the sofa, Asahi stops for a moment and picks up his gift from Suga and Daichi; it’s a decently thick book, with a smooth, plasticy sort of cover that sports a picture of a dog and the words “The Idiots Guide to Finding Your Best Friend.”

Asahi’s never seriously thought about getting a pet, no matter how many passive aggressive remarks Suga’s made. He’s just always had more reasons for why he shouldn’t than for why he should. However, standing in his apartment alone, in the dark, he wishes for something more.

The idea of a fluffy forehead bumping against his legs is nice, the same with quiet chirrups and purrs, laying in bed with something warm next to him.

The scarf in the bottom of his bag crosses Asahi’s mind, and in his tired state, he can’t prevent his thoughts shifting from lazy mornings with snuggly kittens to waking up to the beautiful smile that he last saw almost a month ago.

Eventually his brain catches up with his thoughts, and he shakes his head before setting down the book, turning off the last lamp and carefully making his way to his bedroom as his eyes adjust to the moonlight.

Asahi crawls into bed, though he doesn’t fall asleep until it’s half past one, when his mind finally stops drifting between deadlines and warm eyes, and fades into the familiar comfort of sleep.

* * *

 

The last week of December has always been a stressful time for Asahi, and this year is no exception. Christmas was three days ago, and in three more it’ll be Daichi’s birthday, and then New Years, and then Asahi’s birthday, and that’s a lot of celebrating in a short amount of time. Suffice to say, Asahi needs a pick-me-up, and not one that he has to make himself.

It’s gotten even colder out, allowing the snowfall of almost a week ago to still coat the trees and anywhere that it hasn’t purposely been shoveled away from.

He can see his breath when he exhales, and while that would normally make Asahi feel whimsical, in his current emotional state, all it does is make him feel colder and more eager to reach the convenience store - he could really do with some familiar faces right now.

Rounding the corner onto the street Akiteru’s storefront looks out on, Asahi sighs in almost-relief, another puff of cold, gray air. It’ll be nice to finally be inside, even if he hasn’t been walking for all that long.

Relief is a fickle thing, however, and it slips out of Asahi’s grasp as he stands in front of the door, reading the sign pasted on the glass that says, “Closed for the holidays.”

Asahi wants to just stand there on the sidewalk and let himself sink into the growing feeling of exhaustion in his chest, but it is very windy and very, very cold, so he forces himself to move, heading for the closest store that he can buy cookies in.

When he’s walking home with a little paper bag in his hand, Asahi decides that today is the kind of day where one stays in their apartment with cookies, ice cream, a mug of hot chocolate, and watches a good show.

* * *

 

The welcome mat squishes the tiniest bit under Asahi’s feet when he steps into Suga and Daichi’s apartment, undoubtedly due to the snow melting off of the three pairs of boots by the door.

There’s two small piles of boxes, all wrapped in glossy, patterned paper, set on one of the kitchen counters, one on each side of a rather large and extravagantly decorated cake.

Suga goes for a friendly pat on Asahi’s back, though it feels more like a slap, which knocks snow off of Asahi’s coat as Suga hands him a towel with his other hand and says, “It sure is coming down, huh?”

Asahi takes the towel and starts drying his hair, as the snow that had settled on him has already melted a significant amount since he escaped from the cold streets back into the warmth of the indoors. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve seen this much snow in my life.”

Suga opens his mouth to say something else, but a familiar voice drifting from the living room makes Asahi cut him off with, “Is ‘Love in the Midst of Lies’ on?”

“Yui threw in one of my DVDs while we were waiting for you.”

“Which season?”

Something seems to click in Suga’s brain, because he stops looking at Asahi like a friend and more like prey, and then he asks, “Are you into soap operas now, Asahi?”

“What? No,” Asahi says, and it isn’t a lie, because he isn’t into soap operas. He’s into  _ a _ soap opera, singular. It’s completely different.

Suga hums, obviously not believing a word Asahi just said, but he doesn’t question any further, for now, instead kicking into host mode as he tries to forcibly remove Asahi’s coat and hang it as he says, “Well, come in, come in. No sense in standing around when there’s food to be eaten and celebrating to be done!”

Asahi rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t fight Suga as he somewhat aggressively pries Asahi’s coat and scarf off of him. Then, once Suga’s pleased with his work and starts walking away, Asahi takes off his own boots and follows Suga to the couch, after making his own contribution to one of the piles of gifts.

As soon as he’s behind the sofa, Suga leans over to drape his arms across Daichi’s shoulders, then leans down even further to demand a quick kiss, which Daichi happily gives him.

“Asahi, come sit here,” Yui calls from her place on the loveseat as soon as she sees Asahi enter the room, and when Asahi does sit next to her, she adds in a playful, hushed voice, “Us singles have to stick together if we wanna survive New Years.”

“They’re not that bad,” Asahi says, glancing over to the sofa, where he sees Kiyoko resting her head on Tanaka’s shoulder, smiling as she watches Tanaka absentmindedly play with her fingers, and Daichi who’s closed his eyes and is quietly humming as Suga plays with his hair.

Yui curls into Asahi, bringing her legs up onto the chair as she mutters, “They’re the enemy.”

The relaxed atmosphere of the room doesn’t last more than three minutes, the descent into their usual group chaos starting when a timer goes off in the kitchen, pulling Daichi away from Suga, who subsequently starts sulking, at least until Tanaka says, “I can’t believe you’re actually making Daichi cook on his birthday.”

From there on out, the conversation in the living room is a mess of teasingly accusatory statements and Suga’s elaborate, definitely not exaggerated, explanation about how type A Daichi really is, and that he’s being considerate by allowing Daichi to cook his own birthday dinner.

“I should know, I’m married to him!” Suga proclaims as Asahi walks into the kitchen.

Daichi doesn’t turn to face Asahi as he says, “I know you’re hungry, Yui, but hounding me won’t steam this broccoli any faster, and for that matter, I don’t-”

“It’s me, Daichi.”

Slowly, Daichi looks back over his shoulder, until he makes eye contact with Asahi, and says, “So it is.” He pauses for a moment before turning around fully and continuing, “You know, you’re too timid, Asahi, you should try to take up more space, make some noise, stomp when you walk or something, maybe then I would’ve known it was you instead of having to guess.”

Asahi resists the urge to laugh at Daichi; he knows that rambling is his response to embarrassment, one of many, actually, so he’s going to be the good friend that he is and not mock Daichi on his birthday. He will wait until after midnight when it’s  _ his _ birthday to mock Daichi.

“I just wanted to know if there’s anything I can do to help,” Asahi says.

“Uh, no. No, I don’t think so, but if you want to stick around, company would be nice.” Daichi gestures vaguely around the room, and when Asahi moves to lean against the counter on the other side of the stove, Daichi smiles at him.

Watching Daichi cook while he does nothing reminds Asahi of when they were kids and used to play pirates, before they got old enough to understand that pirates were bad and decided to call themselves adventurers instead. Daichi was the captain, with Asahi as his first mate, and it was something that Daichi always took pride in, especially when he got to step up as the leader and vanquish whatever sea monster Yui wanted to be that particular day.

Asahi’s never really thought about it, but he supposes that Daichi’s always been reliable like that, not in the same way Yui is, but in his own, where he just handles things himself so no one else has to worry about it.

“I love you,” Asahi says suddenly, stepping closer to Daichi so he can wrap an arm around his shoulders in a lame hug that he doesn’t care is lame because he just feels so fond of Daichi right now. Blame it on the holiday spirit.

Daichi laughs, “What’s gotten into you, huh? We haven’t even brought out the wine yet.” Then, when Asahi simply shrugs in response, Daichi chuckles again and reaches up with his free hand to rub Asahi’s arm.

They finish cooking dinner like that, with Daichi doing all the work and Asahi mildly inconveniencing him, and when they walk back into the living room with their own plates already served, they walk back in to find everyone arguing over what they should do for the evening.

“I don’t want to know if Charlene picks Todd or Carl,” Tanaka says emphatically. “I just don’t!”

Suga looks like he’s about to say something in retaliation when Kiyoko calmly asks, “Well, what does Daichi want? It’s his birthday, after all.”

Everyone seems to notice Daichi, then, and they all stare, waiting for him to say something.

Daichi takes his seat on the couch again, as much as he can, at least, with Suga now sitting there as well, and says, “I kind of want to play a board game.”

Yui groans as she stands to go and get her food, “I’ll pass. You all have fun with that.”

“What’s the matter, Yui, afraid you’ll lose?” Suga asks, getting up to follow her into the kitchen.

“No, I just don’t want to be on the receiving end of you or Daichi’s competitive streak.”

They do wind up playing a board game, with “they” meaning Tanaka, Kiyoko, Suga, and Daichi, since Yui stubbornly refused to play, and Asahi simply isn’t a fan of Monopoly.

It’s amusing in its own way to watch; Tanaka and Kiyoko continuously give each other properties and hotels, saying things like, “Here, purple’s your favorite color,” or, “This will complete your set,” meanwhile Daichi and Suga actively try to sabotage each other, yelling things like, “I’m going to fucking destroy you,” or, “Kiss your boardwalk goodbye, bitch,” and so on. All bets are off, however, when Suga starts swearing in French, and Asahi knows it’s swearing because of how aggressive it sounds.

Eventually, the game ends, with Suga as the victor, and the tension in the room seems to disappear as soon as the board is boxed up and put away.

Suga and Daichi settle next to each other on the couch again, drinking from the matching mugs that Yui gave them for Christmas.

“That was a great game,” Daichi sighs, wrapping an arm around Suga.

“Yeah, you were actually difficult to beat for once,” Suga teases.

“Is that a taunt?” Daichi asks, setting his mug on the coffee table. “Are you taunting me, Sugawara Koushi?”

Suga shrieks when Daichi starts tickling him, almost spilling his tea all over the sofa as he laughs and shouts, “Daichi, no! Stop!”

It’s at this point that Kiyoko takes the mug from Suga’s hands, gently placing it on the table next to Daichi’s as she says, “How about we do presents now? I’d really like to know what Asahi and Daichi think about the gifts Ryuu and I got for them.”

“Excellent idea, Kiyoko,” Yui exclaims, springing to her feet. “And after that, we can have cake!”

Kiyoko and Yui start bringing presents into the living room, and Asahi tries to get up to help, but when he does, Tanaka puts a hand on his shoulder to keep him from standing and says, “Take it easy, Asahi, you’re one of the birthday boys. Live it up, yeah?” Then he nudges Asahi’s shoulder with his elbow and smiles before wandering off to help.

When everything’s been brought in, Yui squeezes herself onto the couch with Suga, Daichi, and his little pile of presents, meanwhile Tanaka and Kiyoko settle themselves on the floor, with Kiyoko sitting like a normal person and Tanaka like a sloth, draping himself over her and wrapping his arms around her neck so he can hold her hands again.

“Okay, whose is this?” Daichi asks, holding up a box that’s wrapped in pretty, blue paper with sailboats printed on it, which rattles softly when he shakes it.

“That would be from us,” Kiyoko says as she fidgets slightly, causing Tanaka to link their fingers together more firmly.

Daichi rips off the paper, and almost immediately after says, “Oh, this is perfect! I’ve been meaning to pick up another one of these.” Then he turns the box around to show that it’s a build your own ship in a bottle kit. “Thanks, you guys.”

After that, it’s Asahi’s turn - at least that’s what Tanaka says - and so he opens a little box, wrapped in what looks suspiciously like Christmas paper, to find a pink, rubber duck, courtesy of Yui.

From there, Asahi unwraps candle scents, from Tanaka and Kiyoko, a hat that says “party animal” on it, from Daichi, and he finishes peeling the paper away from his new “Cooking for One” cookbook, lovingly given to him by Suga, as Daichi opens his present from Yui to find an absolutely atrocious tie with scarlet and magenta stripes of various thicknesses that dash diagonally across it.

The gift opening process takes a solid hour, and they’re still not done yet, as Daichi has one present left - Asahi’s.

“It’s fragile, just so you know,” Asahi says when Daichi goes to tear at the paper.

Daichi flashes an inquisitive smile at Asahi, complete with a quirked eyebrow and everything, before he starts slowly unwrapping the present.

Once the paper is tossed aside, the room is silent, waiting for Daichi to laugh or something and announce what it is, at least until Yui gets impatient and says, “Well, don’t keep us in the dark, Daichi.”

“It’s the ski trip,” Daichi practically whispers, as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

Suga immediately throws himself into Daichi’s side, saying, “Wait, wait,  _ the _ ski trip!? I thought we lost all of the pictures of that!” Then he whips his head around to stare at Asahi, clearly expecting an explanation.

Asahi would hate to disappoint him, but he also wants to have some fun first, so he says, “I was the designated photographer on the trip, right?”

“Yeah, and you lost the camera,” Daichi says.

“Well, I did and I didn’t.”

Suga points a finger at Asahi as he threatens, “Do not make me come over there and hurt you, Asahi. Stop dragging this out and tell us where the hell you found these.”

“In a box full of old stuff in my closet,” Asahi says. He knows Suga wouldn’t really try to hurt him, probably just pinch his arm or something, but Suga isn’t very gentle even when he’s playing around. “I must have thrown the disposable camera in a box when I was packing and just forgot about it.”

“That makes sense, it was a pretty crazy time for all of us,” Daichi says, staring down at the picture in his lap.

“What trip was this?” Tanaka asks.

“Asahi, Daichi and I went to a ski resort for a week to celebrate when we graduated high school,” Suga explains. “It was the trip that Daichi and I decided we wanted to be serious and make the effort to keep dating long distance through college.”

“It really was a milestone for us,” Daichi adds on.

It’s awkwardly quiet for a long moment, something that just about never happens when they all get together, and so to break the silence, Asahi says, “That’s just one picture, there are a lot more, and I have copies for all three of us.”

Daichi looks up from the picture to make eye contact with Asahi as he says, “Thanks, Asahi. Really.”

Asahi isn’t affected by the tone of Daichi’s voice, how genuine and warm it is. If anything, it just reminds Asahi what a sap Daichi is at his core, and so him deciding to not mock Daichi for their earlier encounter in the kitchen after all is purely because he’s afraid Daichi might cry or something if he did, not because he wants to cry, himself, right now or anything. Not at all.

“To celebrate the recovery of precious memories, let’s bring out the cake!” Yui says, and the room quickly agrees, so, after all the wrapping paper has been kicked to the side and the presents moved to fit more people on the couch, they settle down again with cake and talk about their days together in school, and Tanaka shares some of his stories about his crazy high school adventures with his best friend.

Before they know it, midnight is only a minute away, and they all wait eagerly for the moment where they cheer together and bring in the new year.

The seconds tick by slower than usual, it seems, giving Asahi more time to think. He looks at his friends, two couples holding hands and leaning into each other, ready for midnight and their first kiss of the new year. Then he looks at Yui, who seems perfectly content with her large slice of cake, and he wonders how she isn’t bothered by being alone.

The clock strikes twelve, ushering in the new year, and they all jump and shout.

Suga leaps into Daichi’s arms as they kiss, Tanaka pecks Kiyoko on the cheek as they hug, and Yui dashes into the kitchen, coming back moments later with enough glasses for them all and a bottle of wine.

They pour their drinks and stand around the coffee table, holding out their glasses as Tanaka cheers, “Happy New Year, everybody, and happy birthday, Asahi!”

The clinking of glass is loud, the taste as he drinks just the slightest bit unfamiliar, but both are welcome distractions from the anxiety that gnaws at him, saying that he can’t be happy being alone like Yui is.

At least Yui has a cat, and Asahi has all of them right now, but when they’re done here, Yui has someone waiting for her, even if that someone is a cat. All Asahi has is an empty apartment.

“Happy birthday, Asahi,” Suga shouts, careening into Asahi’s side in place of a normal hug.

Asahi pulls Suga into a proper hug, smiling and saying, “Thanks, Suga.” The smile disappears, however, when Suga wanders over to Yui and they start talking about something. He wishes it wasn’t, but his party spirit is quite overshadowed by his revelation of the night.

It’s a Thursday when Asahi turns twenty seven and realizes that he’s afraid of being alone.

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter ended a bit heavy, but it's a fluffy fic, I swear.


End file.
